In the water section, she read that, “Plants and cactus, as well as the eyes of animals, are a good source of water.”
Again this information only served to make her feel thoroughly queasy as she pictured herself sucking on the eyeballs of dead rats.
“I think not,” she said out loud while feeling pretty disgusted. “Corporal Beanpod can have his book back.” She closed her eyes tight, feeling utterly doomed.
As she sat on the stone floor alone and in the deepest depression she had experienced for some time, she decided there was only one thing left that she hadn’t already tried, and this was to send up a small and rather urgent prayer for help. She felt more than a little stupid, but reasoned that as she was clean out of fresh ideas, anything was worth a try!
“After all, desperate people do desperate things,” she whispered, once more closing her eyes to help her to concentrate. “So here goes.”
Dear God, remember me? Now I know there have been many times in the past when I have been really angry with You. I don’t want to minimize the effect all this must have had on You, but I am in one of the worst crises that I’ve ever had to face. Yes, we both know full well that I’ve had many of those to date, and that sad fact makes me feel awfully embarrassed. But I assure You, hand on heart, that this one beats them all. It is with this in mind that I am going to ask, or at least try and persuade, You to give us a break and intervene on our behalf. For I am fairly sure that if you could see us now, you would readily agree that we are well-and-truly up a gum tree AND might I add, without a paddle!
Polly momentarily paused to consider if there was anything she had missed and therefore needed to add. Oh dear, I think I meant to say, “Up the creek without a paddle.” Will I ever get anything right?
Oh, and by the way, if You do decide to send help, then I promise I will try much harder to be nicer toward You. Thank You for listening. Amen. Yours faithfully,
Miss Ever-So-Desperate.
She then buried her face in her hands and thought of Thomas, “Oh, dear Thomas, how I miss you so terribly, and Eton, I miss you, too.” She then remembered her little brother, James, and felt really guilty that she had forgotten to keep in contact with him. She determined there and then to write him a nice and very upbeat letter, promising that when she returned she would take him with her to Piadora, but until then she needed him to remain perfectly quiet about her adventure.
She was in the process of neatly folding up her letter to James, having just put the final kisses on the bottom, when she unexpectedly heard a noise. Polly immediately stopped what she was doing and listened intently. Yes, she could definitely hear the sound of hooves followed by snorting. The noise got louder and louder as the sound of hooves approaching the window got nearer before coming to an abrupt halt right outside. Although the window was too high up for her to see out of, she knew that the horse was now right under it, for she could hear the snorts from his flared nostrils. Polly jumped up from where she was sitting and raced over to stand directly under the window.
“Hello! Hello! Can you hear me?” cried Polly.
“Yes I can ‘ear you!” shouted back a voice in broken English.
“Please, can you help us, for we are prisoners, innocent of any crimes!” Polly yelled.
“Of course, thees is why I am ‘ere,” replied the voice that Polly now recognized as a French accent. “Don’t worree, I weel get you out of there in no time at all,” called the most reassuring voice from outside the walls of the dungeon.
Polly listened and heard the man jump down from his horse. She then heard him give his horse a hearty pat on the back as he ordered him to stay put. Seconds later she heard the crunch of his heavy boots over gravel as he made his way into the castle, then everything went as silent as the grave. Polly used this opportunity to safely tuck her letter to James in her backpack along with all her other worldly possessions before going to stand back under the window.
It was only a matter of minutes before she heard the noise of feet hurriedly dashing down the stone steps towards the locked door. Eventually, the footsteps came to a halt on the other side of the thick door. He twisted the doorknob. It would not open.
“The door is well-and-truly locked!” Polly shouted from the other side.
“That ees no problem for me!” shouted the highly optimistic voice from the other side.
After much banging and just as much crashing the heavy dungeon door finally burst open, and in strode a man wearing knee-length boots, a scarlet red waistcoat, and cream breeches. He also sported the most peculiar hat on his head. Polly thought he looked as though he had come out of another century, so strange was his costume. Once in the room, the gentleman removed his hat and made a sweeping bow.
“Bonsieur, mademoiselle. Boniparti at your service.”
“Thank you so very much,” cried a very delighted Polly as she rushed over to give him a hug.
The strangely dressed gentleman winced as she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him much too tightly.
“I did not know that the Engleesh were so eemotional,” he said in his delightfully broken accent. “In my countree it is customaree to give a kiss on both sides of the cheek, mon cherie,” he said, most amused at Polly’s excessively tight hug. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Napoli Bonaparti, and I am a French commander of the Republican army and a soldier from Paris.”
“Nice to meet you, Napoli. I’m Polly,” she said as she covered her mouth in her serious but futile attempt to stifle her giggles.
Napoli took no notice and carried on. “Thees is of course my third attempt to come to Engerland. My first attempt failed miserablee when my fleet of galleons was veree sadly sunk in the river Nile in Egypt by one of your admirals. I theenk ’is name was Lord Nellie—or was it Smellie? I cannot remember. All I remember ees it was the most trageec of days for us French.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Polly sympathetically replied as she sought to console him.
“Hmm,” responded Napoli, giving Polly a steely look, for he did not find her words of comfort the least bit convincing. “Then my next attempt failed just as abysmellie when wee French under the command of Villeneuve met the Engleesh at the Battle of Truffles, for yet again wee took a most terrible beating,” he said, giving the deepest of sighs. “Now zat I ’ave finally made it to Engerland, I fullee intend to pay a viseet to an old friend—or should I say fiend—the Duck of Welligog. Do you know him?”
“I think you mean ‘Duke,’” said Polly with a giggle. “And the answer to your question is no, I don’t know him, but I have heard of truffles, and I believe they are very nice chocolates that only adults get to eat,” she said informatively as she reflected back to her guardians’ New Year’s Eve banquets.
“Weel, anyway,” said Napoli, urgently wishing to get on with his story. “I intend to challenge ’eem to a priveet dual, for I ’ave taken all thees defeats veree personally and now I weesh to see ’im face-to-face and sort theengs out once and for all,” he said with the most serious note of determination.
“Oh dear,” said Polly again rather sympathetically as she continued to try to show some interest, when really she was still thinking about chocolates and how much she would like some. “It’s not nice having enemies, Napoli, really it isn’t, and I think you’d come away feeling a lot happier if you chose to sit down with him and sort out your list of grievances over a nice cup of tea and cake. You’d be amazed how calming tea can be, and Queen Victoria’s sponge is so light and fluffy. I’d go as far as to say that it’s really melt-in-your-mouth stuff,” she declared with a smile.
“Hmm,” was once again the only decidedly vague response that came from Napoli.
“I feel I should point out that many a war has been cut short on both sides due to a nice pot of tea. You should try it, really you should,” she advised as she took a diplomatic approach to his problem.
Napoli chose not to give any response or comment to her seemingly helpful suggestion, so
Polly decided that the best thing she could do was what all good Englishmen do when faced with an embarrassing silence. She changed the subject, and quickly.
“You must have found my note,” said Polly cheerfully.
“Your note, ah yes,” replied Napoli, as he brought his thoughts back to the present crisis. “Yes, I was riding along in thee countryside, mindeeng my own business, when a leettle bird pooped on my nice hat,” he said, taking off his very strange oblong-shaped hat to show her the fresh evidence that still remained splattered all over it. “It must have been an Engleesh bird. That’s all I can say,” he said with a half-hearted smile. “Anyway, I stopped my ’orse and pulled out my weapon, but beefore I had time to attach the bayonet and shoot the leettle beggar from the sky, your note fluttered down to the ground. So I peecked it up and read it. The rest you know.”
“Well, all I can say is a big thank you,” said Polly warmly and appreciatively, “for I was beginning to think that I would be left to die in this hideous dungeon, for it is so cold, damp, and smelly.”
“So eet is,” agreed Napoli. “In fact, thee smell ees disgustingly pungent. Talking of castles, I find it most strange how the Engleesh love their dingy, dark, and veree damp castles in preference to our lovely chateaus. It is leetle wonder thee Engleesh are so miserable and depressed,” he commented as he gave the matter serious thought.
“Yes, what weeth their rising damp as well as all the gloom, then I too would become veree depressed if I ’ad to live in one of thees dreadful places.”
Polly smiled and agreed with him.
“Well, as the old saying goes, an Englishman’s home is his castle,” she replied with a giggle.
“Yes, but why do they ’ave to build large moats around them and ’ave such high drawbridges? To my way of theenking, it makes no sense at all.”
“Well, it takes all that paraphernalia to make them feel safe,” said Polly, most informatively. “We British are, as you have discovered, very reserved, and we like to hole ourselves in,” she said with the greatest of authority. “You know something, Napoli, I’m pretty certain that if it was allowed, the moats around our castles would come complete with killer sharks patrolling them! For at the end of the day we are very private people, not given to allowing anyone to invade our personal space. No, as my Uncle Boritz has always drummed into us, what happens in the castle stays in the castle.”
“I beleeve this to bee veree true, Polly,” said Napoli, nodding his head as he considered her profound words.
“Yes, sadly we can be quite a secretive and suspicious bunch really,” she rather wistfully concluded.
Their conversation was suddenly and very rudely broken by the sound of scampering dogs and loud footsteps.
“Quick, Napoli, I believe Soogara has returned. Now what can we do?” asked Polly, suddenly feeling panicked and fearful.
“Don’t worree, I will deal with her, Polly, for I ’ave fought manee battles and therefore I am sometheeng of an expert in the art of war,” he said very reassuringly as he touched the tip of his bayonet to ensure that it was still razor sharp. Much to Polly’s relief it was.
In little more than a matter of seconds, Soogara burst into the room, Grovelock and Grubstick accompanying her. Both dogs looked frighteningly menacing as they raced forward, their sharp teeth bared. Much to Polly’s surprise, Napoli also bared his teeth as he advanced toward all three of them. In seconds he was prancing around, though more like a dancer than a soldier, as he moved from one foot to another weaving his way toward them, waving and swishing his bayonet to and fro in his desperate bid to ward them off.
Polly watched on from a distance, hoping with all her heart that Napoli was as good as he made out he was. “He’d certainly be welcomed by any major ballet company if he decided on a career change,” Polly secretly thought to herself as she watched him twirl and swirl, dodging the sharp and deadly fangs of both extremely vicious and bloodthirsty hounds.
“Get them!” screeched Soogara as she ordered both dogs to attack.
The dogs instantaneously transformed into the most terrifyingly ferocious bears that stood on their hind legs as they rapidly moved towards Napoli, ready to tear his flesh into little shreds with their teeth and claws.
“Take thees, you big ugly grislee!” Napoli shouted at the top of his lungs as he courageously swiped his bayonet from side to side as both bears lunged further toward him.
The battle between all three seemed to go on for an eternity before Napoli finally got the upper hand, managing to systematically swipe both bears across their throats with his bayonet. Both wounded bears yelped with the pain before turning on their haunches to make a hasty retreat.
“Get back in there and fight to the death!” Soogara screamed at her injured pets before waving her hand like a wand and changing them into vicious wolves.
Both beasts then turned to face Napoli, exposing their razor sharp fangs as they prepared to pounce on him. Napoli was having none of it. With great swiftness, he moved toward his frightening opponents and swiftly lashed out at the two of them, completely missing his intended targets with his seriously sharp bayonet. Suddenly one of the wolves sprang up, his paws landing on Napoli’s chest with such force that he fell over backwards onto the ground. The wolves then set upon him.
“Oh, this is bad; in fact worse than bad,” groaned Polly.
She knew she had to do something and quick. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her diamond still lying on the stone floor. She raced to pick it up and threw it as hard as she could at the nearest wolf that had Napoli pinned down by his giant paws, hungrily preparing to devour him. As the diamond hit the wolf directly between the eyes, it went straight through his forehead and out the other side, killing it instantly. The wolf gave one final desperate breath before slumping down hard on top of Napoli’s outstretched body.
Napoli wasted no time in pushing the dead beast to one side, but as he did so, the other wolf leapt straight on top of him, and in no time at all Napoli was once again fighting for his life as the wolf savagely plunged his razor sharp teeth into his leg. Polly watched on, horrified. She knew that she had to act quickly if she was going to have any hope of saving dear Napoli from being gored to death by this ferocious beast.
She raced over to where the diamond now lay, covered in the gunk and gore from the brains of the beast she had just killed. Polly squirmed as she glanced down at her once sparkling diamond, for all entrails made her feel squeamish and thoroughly sick. Then throwing all caution to one side, she quickly picked it up and took aim.
“Take that, you ugly brute!” she cried as she hurled it in the direction of the wolf, whose large jaw was wide open as he prepared to rip another chunk out of Napoli’s wounded leg.
The diamond once again miraculously hit its intended target with such powerful force that it severed the beast’s main artery, causing blood to spurt like a fountain from his open wound. It was then only a matter of seconds before the beast slumped to the ground beside his fellow creature.
Polly rushed over to her bag and fumbled around inside as she reached and gathered up all the other stones she had collected, for she knew she might need to use these as missiles if this terrifying battle was to continue on any longer.
Napoli, though dazed and disheveled, managed to pick himself up from the ground and, lifting his bayonet high above his head, brought it down several times in his bid to severe the heads from the beasts.
“Yuck! How gruesome!” shouted Polly, turning her head to look away.
Soogara did not share the sentiment. Upon seeing her beloved dogs lying not only dead but now headless on the floor, she went into a senseless demonic rage. In a flash, her eyes became liquid fire, and her breath turned to billowing black smoke as she transformed into the most terrifying dragon-like beast, with wings and long talons. The vile and loathsome creature—now nearly the size of a building—flapped its powerful wings before racing toward them, breathing long paths of red-hot fire as it got closer.
Polly stood frozen to the spot feeling absolutely terrified, that is, until she suddenly remembered Ralph telling her the story of David versus Goliath. This belated thought gave her renewed courage as well as the sudden inspiration she needed to quickly make a sling from which to hurl her pebbles.
She raced over to where Dodo still lay and quickly removed one of his shoes, leaving Napoli to temporarily fend for himself. “This will have to do,” she thought to herself. She then placed a pebble inside the shoe before placing the shoe in a sling, made up from a piece of material that she hurriedly tore off the hem of her dress.
Seconds later, she swung it over her head and aimed.
“Take that, you slimeball!” she yelled. She watched as the stone flew out of the sling and hit the dragon in the middle of its forehead, causing it to be momentarily dazed. “Oh bother,” shouted Polly, “this one worked on Goliath!”
However, all was not lost, for with the dragon now temporarily concussed, it gave Napoli the opportunity he needed to get near enough to slash it across its huge and very wobbly potbelly.
Polly stared as thick blood spurted from the wounded monster, and then trickled like oil across the ground.
“How gross!” she loudly commented. But as she continued to watch the blood weave a path in her direction across the stone floor, it suddenly transformed itself into a pink fluffy cloud.
“Oh no, we’re not going down this path again,” Polly declared out loud. “There’s no way I’m eating any more of that stuff; not now and not ever.”
But as the cloud made its way toward Polly it started to wind its way around her torso. In seconds Polly was up to her chin in thick cotton candy that was choking her and on the verge of taking the very life out of her.
Polly Brown Page 52